


Lessons in Difficult Chords

by AstroGirl



Category: The Orville (TV)
Genre: Angst, Artificial Intelligence, F/M, Kids, Paternal Instinct, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 18:58:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18784216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroGirl/pseuds/AstroGirl
Summary: Ty doesn't understand.  Isaac, perhaps, is beginning to.





	Lessons in Difficult Chords

**Author's Note:**

> This is set somewhere after "Identity," and well before "Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow." It seems I am going to feel compelled to write my own versions of the relationship fallout from "Identity" (with or without ever actually resolving anything) until canon finally sees fit to address the matter. I'm _really_ hoping they get renewed for another season, because I don't want to be doing this forever.
> 
> Anyway. This was written for Gen Prompt Bingo, inspired by the prompt "coming of age." Turns out it's even more of a stretch to fit that prompt than I thought it was going to be when I started. But there's some vague stuff about growing up and learning, so that's close enough. Right?

Isaac's door chimes.

This is an unusual occurrence. Isaac's quarters are not configured for socializing. Because he does not require furniture, he has had most of it removed and replaced with computer and laboratory equipment, providing himself a place to pursue his researches when he wishes to minimize interruptions. And when he is required by one of the _Orville_ 's officers, they are most likely to contact him through the ship's communication system.

Isaac pauses the analysis he has been running and proceeds to the door. At his command it opens, revealing the small form of Ty Finn.

Isaac does not experience surprise, but he does find the boy's appearance unexpected. "Hello, Ty. May I help you?"

"Isaac!" From the stress patterns in the human's voice and the movements of his facial muscles, it would appear that he is experiencing some significant agitation. "Isaac, you have to talk to my mom. You _have_ to!"

"Come in," Isaac says, moving aside for the boy to enter, as he has been taught is polite among most organic lifeforms. "On what subject do you wish me to speak to your mother?"

Ty enters and the door slides shut behind him. "You _know_ what."

There are many subjects about which he might find it useful to converse with Doctor Finn. He could venture a number of guesses as to which of them Ty would be most likely to concern himself with, but in the absence of further context, it is not possible to come to a definitive conclusion. "I do not," he says.

"About you coming back and being part of our family again!" Ty's lower lip oscillates slightly. This is not an expression Isaac has observed in any adults of his species. He has wondered if it is common in human juveniles, or if it is one of the characteristics unique to Ty Finn.

"I see," he says. "But your mother has made her wishes in this matter clear. I do not believe further conversation on the subject would be helpful at this time."

"You could _try_."

"I have done so. Your mother was most firm in her response." Nor did he find that response entirely unreasonable. While he had attempted to take the stance that the severance of his association with the Kaylon and his choice to oppose their agenda should make him more acceptable as a mate now, rather than less, he does not regard it as illogical that, in the words of Lieutenant Malloy, "most women find attempted genocide kind of a deal-breaker, even if you do change your mind about it in the middle."

Ty does not respond, but merely stands there quietly, looking increasingly more distressed.

"The decision is not mine to make," Isaac tells him. "I am sorry."

This is a phrase he initially learned as a rote social convention, but the concept behind it is one that he has come to understand as meaningful. Whatever emotion organic beings associate with regret, Isaac does not experience it, but he has developed some degree of familiarity with it as a mental state.

"But it's not _fair_ ," Ty says, his small fists beating at the air in front of him. "She won't even let you come and give me my piano lessons, and I _hate_ studying with Lieutenant Kleeman! Why doesn't she want to let you see us anymore?"

"It is not that she wishes to keep me from you," Isaac says. "She currently wishes to minimize her own encounters with me outside of our work. She told me that she 'needs some space.'"

Ty's face wrinkles up in an expression Isaac recognizes as confusion. "What does that even mean?"

"I was confused by the expression as well. I pointed out that, as we reside in a spaceship, we are entirely surrounded by space. It seems, however, that her meaning was that she requires time apart from the confusing stimulus of my presence to analyze her emotional responses."

Ty's face wrinkles up further. "Huh?"

Ty is exceptionally bright for a human, but his neural nets have not fully matured and he lacks experience. Isaac attempts to simplify the matter for him, even though doing so risks exceeding his own understanding of human emotional dynamics. "She does not wish to see me. I... make her feel bad."

"Oh," says the boy, in a very quiet voice.

"You should continue your lessons with Lieutenant Kleeman. His playing is, of course, inferior to my own, but it is important for you to practice. Human procedural memory degrades with time if not maintained, and it would be most unfortunate to allow your skills to atrophy." 

Perhaps he should have a word with Kleeman, to impress upon him the importance of encouraging the child's talent. Ty's playing is impressive for a biological organism, especially one so young. Perhaps even more impressive because it is so difficult for biologicals to acquire and maintain such skills, where Isaac's own musical ability presented no challenge and required no dedication to master. And while Ty will never equal Isaac's microsecond precision with the instrument, this does not necessarily represent a failing. Isaac is given to understand that minute variations in performance are often seen by organics to constitute "personality" or "soul," and he has come to appreciate this in Ty's playing.

He must ask someone if it would be appropriate to continue to attend Ty's recitals. Perhaps if he sits in the back?

"I don't want to," Ty says, his voice still low and indistinct.

"Ty," says Isaac, "I understand that you--" _Are experiencing negative emotions_ , he is about to say, but Ty cuts him off. This may be just as well, as Isaac has very little useful advice to give on this matter. Humans, as he has recently learned, cannot simply delete mental connections to troubling subjects. Indeed, as he has also recently learned, this technique is not necessarily effective even in Kaylons.

"I don't want to!" The boy is yelling now. "I don't want that! I want _you_ to teach me! You're better at it. And I love you! You need to come back. You were supposed to be my _dad!_ "

"Your mother--" Isaac begins, but Ty yells over him again, clearly not listening, and once again there is no point to continuing the sentence.

"My mom is _stupid_ and I _hate_ her!"

"Ty Finn." He has learned from Claire that the use of the children's full names can be remarkably effective in commanding their attention. "You should not say that. Your mother is extremely intelligent for an organic lifeform, and she cares for you very much."

"Then why is she being so _stupid_? You're good, Isaac. I know you are. You..." His voice goes small and quiet again. "You saved me."

"I could not allow you to be harmed." 

The evolution of this conviction was unexpected. Kaylons do not have young; they are assembled fully developed and capable of all necessary functions. Before his interactions with Ty and his brother Marcus, Isaac had not encountered juvenile creatures in need of nurturing and protection. And yet the very existence of such needs seems to provoke in Isaac an imperative to meet them. It is all most interesting.

"But," he continues, "the romantic desires of humans are extremely complicated. Merely demonstrating an unwillingness to vaporize one's offspring does not appear to be sufficient to maintain them."

"Mom keeps telling me I'll understand when I'm older," Ty says, his foot kicking pointlessly against the carpet of Isaac's floor. 

"There is logic in that statement," Isaac says. "I myself am quite young by Kaylon standards, but I understand a great deal more than I did only a short time ago."

"I don't _want_ to understand," Ty says. His lip is trembling again, and his eyes are beginning to moisten, a sure sign of heightened emotion in a human. "I just want it to be like it was."

"I understand. I would prefer the previous state of affairs, as well." Instabilities in his programming have been multiplying in the absence of his connection to the Kaylon, his connection to Claire, and his connection to her children. It is not an optimal circumstance. Nor was it his wish to cause Claire or the children distress. Or for Ty to contemplate abandoning his piano lessons. "But given the technology currently available to us," he says, "it is not possible to change events that have already occurred."

The boy is crying now. He does not speak, but makes only small, wordless sounds. To elicit this response was also not Isaac's intention.

He knows only one tool for assisting in such a situation. He steps towards Ty and puts an arm around him. As a protective gesture, it would not appear reasonable. How is it possible to protect the child when Isaac himself is the source of his distress? But he hopes that Ty will find it comforting.

Ty clings to him, burying his wet face in Isaac's torso. It cannot be comfortable, but Ty does not appear to care. He merely sobs his conflicted, confusing human emotions out onto Isaac's metal skin.

Isaac puts his other arm around him, holds him close, and lets him cry. When this release of emotion has exhausted him, Isaac will return him to his mother. He does not know what else to do.

He wishes that he knew what else to do.

He wonders what it is like to cry.


End file.
